


Fatal Addiction

by whatever_my_muse_is



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Conflict, Drama, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Flashbacks, Mild Gore, Multi, Needles, Skyhold (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:57:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatever_my_muse_is/pseuds/whatever_my_muse_is
Summary: Cullen is having a hard time dealing with his lyrium addiction and abuses it, what will be his fate?Back at Skyhold the Inquisitor is worried sick about her commander as there is a battle upcoming soon and he needed to be here.





	Fatal Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> ** This is an unfinished fanfic** Not sure if I plan to write more of it to be honest.
> 
> This is also my first time posting a fanfic on here, I am really not used to how it works! I apologize in advance for the messiness :C!!!

He could not withstand the anguish and pain any longer. His brain gave the impression that it was about to implode, vile thoughts echoing; distressing whispers torturing his mind. Though they may be whispers, they were not as discreet as they should have been. His nightmares scattered as he slept, disrupting his rest every single night only forcing him to wake up to screams and terror that occurred in Redcliffe Village. A few weeks beforehand at the war table, the Inquisitor received a request for help from the commander in ranking at Redcliffe and she had asked Cullen to take his men to go aid the village as a small army of Venatori troops evaded the town, slaughtering the lives of the innocent much too overpowered for Redcliffe’s troops to withstand. Without hesitation, Rutherford accepted Vakeira’s demand. He prepared his troops as usual to head out to the location. This mission seemed like quite the simple task; protect and serve, as that was Cullen’s duty as a commander. The final result of this mission was one that the knight never experienced firsthand. The terror reigned inside of him, clutching onto his last piece of sanity replacing all the delicate memories webbed inside his brain with unforgettable gruesome images.  


The haunting memories incapable of slipping away from his mind only persistently reminded him of the guilt that wore him down, making him feel a fake responsibility as if he sent his own men to their deaths. The image of Cullen’s soldiers getting brutally torn apart by the sharpened claws of demons played repeatedly in his head like a never ending torture. Chunks of his troops’ flesh flung onto his face, freshly warm and wet, sticking to his cheek bones. A heavy aroma of iron pervaded the air as pools of blood gathered by the commander’s feet. Streaks of blood messily painted the battlefield, the deep red liquid splattering all over Cullen’s clothes and armor permanently staining them, impregnating his mind with this perpetual horror.  


Their bloodcurdling screams filled the man’s ears, sending shivers down his spine. Ceaseless cries for help echoed throughout the battleground, unanswered and hopeless as demons would shred away at their bodies with the utmost ease. He could hear the cracking of bones as he gazed into the field, terror-stricken, as he helplessly watched his men die mercilessly. The commander’s feet were cemented into the ground, he was horrified. Trembled breaths parted from his lips as he made eye contact for the last time with one of his best men, Fehnrin. The demon’s clawed hand impaled Fehnrin’s chest, like a knife cutting through butter, slicing the soldier’s body in half. Cullen did not flinch, his stare locked onto what was happening right in front of him. He could hear the tear of flesh and bones up until Fehnrin’s head that split in two, flesh lacing from each side, his body detached, no longer weaved together like it’s supposed to be. His brain sagged down landing on the ground with a loud splosh. Fehrin’s petrified gaze cut in half, along with his crystal clear shriek, instantly turning into a gurgled silenced as his mouth was torn in two.  


Before it was too late, Cullen shouted a retreat to the remaining men as he began to run. He knew there was no other choice as a great number of demons were surrounding them. As a commander it was his duty to protect, even in this horrible bloodshed. They were not prepared for an overpowering demon infiltration, but an unexpected fade rift tore apart the sky, demons seeping out incessantly outnumbering Cullen and his troops.  
He failed them, miserably.

The hunger for lyrium to forget about that dreadful memory was much too desiring. He had barely gotten over the bad memories that happened in Kirkwall and Cullen had promised Vakeira that he wouldn’t take it any longer. As a knight-commander bearing honor, he felt like he broke an oath that stripped away the last of his lingering dignity. He had asked Cassandra to watch over him in case he was given into any temptation, but the nightmares were far too great to handle alone. Thus, he had left the inquisition in secrecy.  


He had organized a meeting with some blood mages in the Hinterlands in Witchwood, already aware of the risks at hand, but the desperation for lyrium was dominating his willpower. His remaining lyirum supply at Skyhold was destroyed by Cassandra, so he was left with no other choice other than get in contact with these mages. At this point, he didn’t care anymore of the judgements or the scolding that he would get on his way back to Skyhold. He already felt like a total failure and his confidence was shattered. To make all matters worse, he borrowed some of the Inquistion’s coin for the transaction. The mages were demanding a high price for this shipment of lyrium, further complicating Cullen’s situation.  


Cullen ventured deep into the forest of the Hinterlands, dark gray skies hanging over him, his boots crunching the dead leaves on the ground only to remind of him the sound of his men’s cracking bones with each dreadful step. As he moved forward, he heard the whispers of the woods in the wind assuring him that he was near the destination. He continued on, passing by the ropes hanging on the lifeless trees, webbed to look like a pentagram, uninvitingly showing the entrance to the Witchwood. Up ahead he could see a huddled circle of blood mage’s who were awaiting the commander’s arrival.  


As he entered their territory he began to feel cold rain drops splashing onto his face, evoking another memory of his troop’s blood splattering all over him. Every little thing was a constant reminder, only feeling a constant pressure into taking lyrium to forget about it all. Cullen let out a heavy sigh as the rain softly drummed against the trees, adding to the silent whispers of the forest.  


The hunger for lyrium struck with every step, the throbbing head ache and flashing recollections increased the eagerness to stick the needle in his arm as soon as he was able to. One of the blood mages turned to face the blond man, his deep burgundy hood cloaking his inscrutable countenance. Dark impenetrable eyes watched the knight carefully as he approached them. “Commander, you made it…” a deep sinister voice slithering out from the head mage’s vile lips. Little did Cullen know what the mages had planned. They knew Cullen was extremely vulnerable for the lyrium and so they conjured up a flawless plan to screw the Inquisition over.  


"Shut up Avgaar. Just give it to me.” the commander growled in response as he threw the heavy pouch of coins towards Avgaar where it landed on the soiled ground by his cloth-wrapped feet. A small snicker emerged from the mage as he picked up the bag of coins, tugging it open to verify the amount inside. “I gave you an extra vial in case you really needed it.” The words rolled off the mages tongue, spewing poison with every word spoken as he made his way towards Cullen to hand over the case of lyirum.  


The commander grabbed and opened the case, counting six vials of lyrium. Despair washed over him as he placed the case of lyrium on a boulder beside him. He lifted up the sleeve of his shirt, unable to wait a moment longer. He reached into his pant pocket for a rubber band to tighten around his arm, his vein surfacing for an easy injection. With trembling fingers he took a vial and removed the cap off with his thumb. He carefully grabbed the needle provided in the case and stuck it in the bottle to fill it with lyrium.  


His eyes filled with thirst watched closely as the liquid rose up to the maximum limit of the needle. His concentration was all on the lyrium now, no matter how much disdain he bore. Cullen did not care for the mages, nor where he was or the weather or even the Inquisition at this point. His true desire was to jab this needle into his arm to erase all the atrocity, to obtain a peaceful release.  


His eyes were locked on the needle, resting the tip of it on his vein. He breathed out, the throbbing head ache hammering against his skull and the painful memories permanently blemishing his brain that pressured him into believing that there was no turning back. “Oh sweet Maker… My apologies,Vakeira, for as I am not as strong as I thought.” His eyelids shut as he stuck the needle in his flesh, feeling the trajectory of the liquid flowing through his veins. He fell back onto the boulder to lean on it for support, slowly beginning to feel light and feathery. His head ache eased up a little, but the recollections were still very apparent. The hurt and pain still very much alive were combatting the lyirum.  


It’s not enough.  


Cullen finished the vial, his vision blurring as he saw the scenery doubling in front of him from the side effects. He drunkenly tossed the vial onto the ground to reach for another with a nearly numbed grip. It took effort to attempt getting the tip of the needle into the second bottle as his double vision made it nearly impossible. His head swayed from side to side as he deeply focused to get the needle in his vein once more. As soon as he fully emptied the second vial, his legs caved in as his body collapsed onto the wet ground. His eyes grew softer as he stared up into the sky, his vision gaining back clarity. The dark grey skies were shifting into a peaceful bright blue, the sun’s rays now penetrating the land. He could feel the warmth hitting him now. It comforted him like a baby nestling in his mother’s arms. “It’s so beautiful now..” He watched as birds flew by, chirping a happy melody, as if they were personally speaking to Cullen, making him smile as they landed on a nearby branch of a tree. There was not a single worry on his mind now, only the admiration of the absence of pain.  


Cullen’s mind was now preoccupied by the fake beautiful world of lies bestowed upon him from the effects of the lyirum mixed in with the mages sinister magic. The plan had worked in their favor as they now had full possession over Cullen’s body. They were able to send the commander’s mind at their disposal in a fake serene world overlapping reality, tricking Cullen into thinking that what was happening before him was real. But, it was actually all staged in his mind as the mages could now do whatever they wanted, like assassinate the Inquisitor to end it all so that Corypheus can rule over the world without any obstacles.  


“Corypheus will be pleased. The commander’s desperation was idiotic. He was so gullible.” A mage commented on the fact how simple it was to accomplish their quest to overturn the Inquisition. “This will be easy, especially that the Inquisitor has her eyes on him. Assassinating her will turn out perfect.” Avgaar’s hearty caliginous laugh filled the silence of the woods as he waved to the rest of his men. “Let’s go, the so called commander Cullen will take care of it from here while we watch.” Below the dark skies the mages hummed their blood magic as they were vanishing one by one back to their nest. Cullen laid still in a peaceful bliss, blank eyes staring up into the sky as the magic continuously weaved a fake picture in his mind.

“Have you any news, Leliana?” Vakeira said worrisomely to the spymaster as she paced back and forth, unable to focus with the anxiety panging. Leliana let out a sigh, shaking her head. She rested her elbows on the desk lacing her fingers together as she continued to scrutinize the map of Fereldan before her. “I’m doing my best Inquisitor, but my spy agents have not any lead on Rutherford.”  


"Well, look harder!” The elf chastised her, throwing a stone cold stare at the spymaster, instantly feeling bad about her reply knowing that Leliana was doing all that she could to find the commander. Vakeira’s admiration for Cullen was muddling her calmness that she usually wore. “I… I apologize for my behaviour. I need a moment.” She stopped pacing back and forth, crossing her arms as she turned to walk away. No one knew of the expanding fondness she had for Cullen, not even the man himself.  


“I know it’s difficult, but try to ease your mind with a drink or something of the sort that will soothe you. Trust me, I’ll find Cullen. He is an important figure for the Inquisition. He cannot be far my agents will continue the search.”  


“Thank you.” Heeding the spymaster’s words Vakeria decided to head down to Herald’s Rest below of Skyhold to have a drink… Or two.  
A tankard of ale never hurt anybody in a situation like this, right?  


Upon arriving at the tavern she could hear from the entrance the bellowing laughter of Bull as he was drinking alongside his crew. The clanking of their metal cups clunked in the air as they cheered to their defeat of their first High Dragon, a seemingly good reason to be drinking to. Vakeira made her way to them, taking a seat at the wooden table beside Bull, her lips wearing an obvious frown. His crew members continued their excited chatter as the Qunari man waved at the elf, smiling softly, “Hey Boss. I can see something is up. Join me and the crew!” He waved at the bartender, “The Inquisitor special!” he shouted as the bartender returned the reply with a nod.  


“The Inquisitor… Special?” Vakeira’s brow arched as she forced a smile. Already her mood was slightly lightening up, the Iron Bull never ceased to let her down whenever she was in a melancholy mood. The large man nudged her arm with his elbow his gentle smile turning into a bare-tooth grin. “Oh, you’ll see you’re gonna really like this treat. Not like that bullshit Varric had us drink the other day. It’s…” He paused, looking momentarily pensive “Sweet like candy, and sour like a peach, heh, just like that juicy peach over there.” Vakeira followed Bull’s wandering gaze as he was examining the rump of a red headed man. She softly chuckled shaking her head, “Same as always, right, Bull?” The man shrugged, “Yup.”  


“Here’s the special for you, Inquisitor. Enjoy.” The barman set down the tankard, an aroma of peach quickly filling the air. The Qunari man watched her intently, confident that she will enjoy her drink. Vakeira raised her cup in the air, clank, as Bull cheered to her.  


Raising the rim of the glass to her lips she could taste the sweetness of the light beer combined with the soft sourness of what seemed like peach nectar. The small pieces of peach were refreshing as she munched on them, savoring the taste on her tongue. She hummed pleasingly. “Not too strong on the taste of alcohol either. I like it. Thanks Bull.” The man smiled as he sipped on his own drink. “Oh indeed, it is stronger than you think. Another one and you’ll be on the table dancing like a mad man!” The Inquisitor let out a snort, “A challenge, it seems.” This brief moment of amusement suddenly turned as Cullen popped back into her head, worry pouring into her thoughts.  


The Iron Bull noticed her sudden change of demeanor as her smile swapped quickly into a frown. “Something’s on your mind, Boss. Spill it out.” The elf’s eyes were filled with hopelessness as she chugged down her drink and waved to the barman for another knowingly that she was not able to discuss this situation while sober. She needed to express her growing affection for Cullen and Bull was like a big brother to her, she trusted him deeply. But, as the Inquisitor owning extremely high responsibilities she felt that this affection was misplaced and she was scared of talking about it with anybody. She always displayed herself as the independent woman with a thick shell, putting her foot down whenever needed. She was an influence to everybody in the continent. What if putting aside her duty momentarily for love was out of the question and looked down upon?  


“That big, huh?” Bull commented as he watched her drink her second tankard. Vakeira stood up grabbing Bull’s large muscular arm and tugged as hard as she could for him to get up and follow her. “I’m stealing your leader for a moment” she exclaimed loudly to the Charger’s as her head became fuzzier by the second from intoxication. “Can we speak privately in my quarters?” Thankfully Bull’s large frame supported her to stay upright. Her vision was slightly spinning as the drunkenness stuck, causing her to lose stability in every step. “Alright, come on now.” The Qunari man held her up as they made their way out of the tavern and into her private quarters.  


As soon as they entered she sloppily made her way to take a seat on the edge of her bed. Impulse took over her emotions from the effects of the alcohol as she began to sob loudly into the palms of her hands, shaky breaths parting from her quivering lips. Bull sat down beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. She was clearly having a drunken breakdown. The belief that the alcohol would make her worries go away backfired.  


The man exhaled from his nose as he wrapped his arms around her. His arms were almost triple the size of her frail, slender body. Nonetheless, she was somewhat comforted as her sobbing lightened up to sniffles. Her eyes held some tears, puffiness growing under her eyes as they soaked up the bodily water. She lifted her hand to wipe the wetness off her cheek and then laid the palm of her hand on Bull’s bicep. She briefly closed her eyes as the warmth of their bodies caused her explosion of emotions to subdue. Taking a deep breath, she dropped her hand on her lap and moved away from Bull’s grasp to look at him. “I’ve something important on my mind. You can’t tell anyone, pinky promise?” She held up her pinky, smiling partially, her amethyst hues glossy from the shedding of tears. Bull chuckled finding it quite adorable that the big inquisitor thought that a pinky promise would do such an impact on anything, but he did it anyway and laced his pinky around hers, “Alright”.  


“I try my best to be good at this…thing; leading an army, organizing tactics for the best outcome for Skyhold. Not just Skyhold, but for all of Fereldan” she paused as she held up her hand to her face to gently drag her finger across the scar displayed under her eye, a scar that would hold forever a cherished memory about Cullen even if scars weren’t meant to bear good memories. Her vacant gaze longed at the ground, “And I fear all of this so much. You have no idea how difficult it is sometimes. So many hardships, but all I want to do is to be in someone’s arms right now.” Her words came out almost silent as she longed to be in Cullen’s arms, feeling significantly desperate. Her eyes darted to look at Bull. “I love Cullen. And I am scared that he doesn’t love me back, nor if it will be looked down upon in the Inquisition. What would the others think?” The alcohol made her feel overly sensitive. She was usually able to keep all her emotions intact and ignore the gushiness that she would come across from time to time as the Inquisition was her top priority over anything else.  


The man was at shock of the disclosure Vakeira revealed. It would have never crossed his mind that she had fallen for Cullen; she kept it hidden pretty thoroughly. Everyone knew of Bull’s bracing bisexuality and how he expressed his opinions so openly, so he knew exactly what she was going through because at first he kept everything secretly to himself. With time it made him unhappy so he adjusted his path to push people’s judgements aside and become who he wanted to be. “First thing’s first Boss, I am happy for you and you shouldn’t let others control what you want. Elf or not you have feelings and if you love Cullen, you should fucking go for it. Fuck everyone else and their opinions.” Bull lifted his hand to give a small pat on the small elf’s head. “I’m sure you can juggle working and fucking at the same time anyway. Women are known to be multi-taskers.”  


Vakeira started laughing, an increase in confidence as she nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right Bull. Who wouldn’t want to get a piece of that? I could steal a few moments from work and do it right up against the wall with him.” Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she realized how much she was beginning to talk like Bull. “Oh for Maker’s sake, what did you do to me Bull? Was there something in those drinks that I didn’t know about?” The Iron Bull let out a hearty laugh as he tapped her on the back, “That’s my girl.”  


The moment swiftly changed as a spy agent came bursting into the doorway of her bedroom causing both Bull and Vakeira to look who was coming into the room. “Inquisitor, pardon me for interrupting but we found him!” 

The blond man was unconscious in the Skyhold’s infirmary, laying still as if in tranquility embedded in the velvet silk bedding that wrapped around his body. Vakeira stood beside him, watching him closely as he breathed deep and slow in a calming rhythm. “Where was he?” the elf turned to face Leliana who was also present in the room. “He was unconscious on the grounds of the Hinterlands.” She sighed deeply with disappointment. “With that by his side” she pointed to the case of lyrium on a nearby table.  


“Shit” Bull commented as he knew that this was not going to be a welcoming ceremony for when he wakes up.  


The door bursts open as an angry Cassandra Pentaghast barges in without warning stomping her way to Cullen, her face ridden with intense infuriation. She growled as she saw that he was not yet awake. “That bastard!” she snarled, turning to face the Inquisitor. “He lied to us. How could he, Vakeira?!” She shouted loudly, slamming her fist on the edge of the bed. The elf froze in place, her heart sinking in her chest as she realized what he had done and she was undeniably dumbfounded. “We’re going to have to have an intervention. This is troublesome.” Vakeira’s throat was so dry she felt as if she was swallowing daggers. She had no choice but to make a difficult decision. Based on his defense, the situation might or might not be reparable. Either way, the outcome will define his destiny.  


A soft groan emerged from the commander’s mouth as his eyelids fluttered open dazed and confused as to where he was. The last thing he remembered is how high he was on the grounds of Witchwood. The effects of lyirum still pulsed strongly through his veins as he felt disconnected from his body.  
Slap  


The Seeker struck his face so hard with her hand it nearly knocked him out again. He groaned loudly automatically pressing his hand to his cheek as it instantly left a red mark. He realized his surrounding as Cassandra leaned over him with aggravation written all over her complexion. “What in Maker’s name are you doing?! Do you realize what you did? You liar” her jaw clenching as she growled in anger.  


“I suppose I did deserve that” he winced as he sat up in the bed understanding what was happening. “But I have my reasons.” His eyes glanced over to Vakeira who wore a questionable expression on her face. “I could not stand it any longer, the pain bringing me down. It was too much for me to bear.”  


Cassandra grunted disgustingly, “And you believe that we don’t all bear some pain? Do you see me getting to a lower level and injecting myself with that shit? There are other ways!” Vakeira stepped in and grabbed her arm to pull her away, “That’s enough Cassandra. Let me deal with this. “  


“You know what? Fine. You better give him hell, without Andraste’s mercy.” No matter how angry she was she trusted the Inquisitor with her decisions and knew she was going to do what was right. She left the room muttering frustratingly under her breath. “I’ll go talk to her, Boss.” Bull left after her, Leliana following behind shutting the door behind her.  


The two were left alone in an awkward silence without Cassandra’s hectic fury, but still, Vakeira needed an explanation. “You do know you’re putting your duties at a very high risk right now? You know lyirum is highly dangerous. We even made an effort to keep the Templars here off of it. Now what kind of influence will you be to them?”  


“I know. I’m… I’m sorry.” His hazel hues looked up connecting to hers, filling with a deep sorrow. “I just could not handle what happened at Redcliffe. It was slowly making me mad. I could feel my brain just wanting to tear itself apart, forget about it all. And now I do. I’ve forgotten.”  


“For the moment. So what now, you’re going to continue getting high off your ass?” She replied coldly. She closed her eyes as she breathed out through her nostrils trying keeping her patience intact. “You know you can talk to me, about anything. You don’t need to depend on lyrium. You don’t think you’ll go mad after injecting yourself every day? You told me that yourself.”  


Cullen reached out for her hand and held it tightly in his palm. She wanted to retract her hand away but his gentle eyes grew on her. Without his knowledge, she knew damn well that he has casted a wicked spell on her and she was unable to stay mad at him. “I’m sorry Vakeira, I truly am. Do what you wish is best for me as punishment. I deserve it. I cannot say I promise not to take it again, because the trust you have for me is surely broken. I plan to get it back.” He let go of her hand and laid back in bed.  


“You’ll be continuing your duties as a commander under constant supervision in Skyhold. Although you’ll not be able to leave the castle until I decide when you can.” She said sternly, knowing that removing his post as commander in the middle of a war with Corypheus would be obliteration as no one eligible would be able to replace him. “Get some rest to get that lyrium out of your system. And as for this” she walked over to the case of lyirum on the side table to pick it up “this is going to be safely hidden away from you.”  
Cullen nodded believing that was a fair trade. “Good night.”


End file.
